


A Pretty Bow

by Utofff



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Implied Relationships, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 07:55:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11687334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utofff/pseuds/Utofff
Summary: Arya finds a coming home present for her sister.Might contain show spoilers, I don't know how to tag properly. Sort of show/book mix. My Sandor has cut his fucking hair.





	1. Chapter 1

She had been kneeling staring into the fire when the hand had clenched her shoulder and jerked her back several inches and several years.  
  
'Ive got you now wolf bitch. All this fucking time and all your hard talk and youre right back where you started. Bleeding hells. Good thing you didnt finish the job on me, might have mucked it up worse.'  
  
At least she was merely looking at his disgusting face this time rather than having his disgusting paw all over her face. She was also looking at about four or five other men she'd wished she'd never see again. If not for the amount of bloodshed it'd have saved her from having to deal with.  
  
She'd _like_ to say she had let them sneak up on her, but her heart and her ears and eyes had all been filled with snowy memories of Jon or fiery rememberings of pissing Sansa off.  
  
She'd been heading home. To Winterfell. She shouldn't have had to be careful so close to home. It was her lands. She was the bleeding princess, if Hot Pies political understanding had been correct.  
  
'Piss off. I've got better things to do then kill you lot right now.'  
  
The Hound huffed getting his breath all over her as he squatted next to her still holding her in place. He looked back at his companions.  
  
'Is that so girl? What if we didn't feel like wasting the afternoon away dieing? You'd just be making more work for me anyways.'  
  
The priest had a point. But so did she.  
  
'Your dog has a bum leg, and I could be miles away by the time your magic decides to work.'  
  
There was a painful squeeze on her shoulder.  
'Theres nothing wrong with my fucking leg.'  
  
She looked him in the eyes for the first time since she'd stolen his coin. Both of them was looking at a different person. His grip immediately loosened even if his scowl stayed in place.  
  
'You lot aren't worth it anyway. You can try and truss me up if you want but I'll just slip out and we'll have both wasted an afternoon. Besides, i dont want to get any blood on my cloak.'  
  
The Hound guffauwed. Again, expelling his breath right in her face. She finally let her disgust show and she pushed at him as he fell back on his arse in the snow still laughing like an idiot. What she said wasn't even remotely funny, but he was an idiot, so what could she expect?  
  
'No,  wouldn't want that would we? Want to be nice and presentable when you see the Princess of Winterfell don't you?'  
  
'I'm the Princess of Winterfell you shit.'  
  
'One of em anyway'  
  
'Sansa's not-' Sansa wasn't there. Sansa was off married to a dwarf, unless- She sprang to her feet and drew needle and placed it under his chin. 'What have you done to my sister?'  
  
He batted away her sword and rose to his own feet and his stupidly high height to once again tower over her.  
  
'Not done anything to your sister, wolf bitch.' He crossed his arms than mumbled so that only she could hear. 'Or at least not had the chance to do anything yet.'  
  
She was about to attempt to stab him again when stupid Beric spoke up.  
  
'Princess, that's no way to treat a lord is it?'  
  
'Or a couple of Lords and a holy man at the least', Thoros added.  
  
'He's a second son, and your not anything but a lord of the worms.'  
  
'Ser Gregor Clegane is dead. That makes him the heir and the Lord of his house. Doesn't that allow him a little more diplomacy from a princess and a little less...general terror?'  
  
The Hound looked back at Beric then back at her with as thoughtful an expression as he, as an idiot, seemed capable of mustering. She could tell he'd never even considered the idea.  
  
'Aye. _Princess_ ,' he sneered the word at her when he'd practically made a poem out of Sansa's title, 'I'm a lord now and as such we're headed to go treat with the King in the North.

He lent down to put his ugly mug in her face.

  
'And your pretty sister'  
  
She lunged at the bait he'd laid and got caught by those stupid meaty paws. Thoros strode forward to hand his companion some rope to tie her up with as she fought against Lord Hounds grip.  
  
'Well if I'm a lord now, and I'm going to meet with a great lady, The Princess of Winterfell, I ought to bring her a present? That's what proper lords do right? Bring ladies presents?'  
  
'I think it'd be the only thing to do really. Thoros can pick her some lovely blue roses, and I have my men and their swords to give, what better gift for you to give her than a replacement for the wolf your previous employers lost?'  
  
Lord Hound had been giggling at Berics musings on courtly etiquette until that point. He and his captive stared daggers at Beric  
  
'Sansa Stark doesn't need a bloody wolf. She is one.'  
  
She wished she had been the one to say it.  
  
Sandor Clegane got back to his task of tying a fussy  bow on his present.  
  
'A wolf that hopefully feels she owes me a favor and not a trip to the gallows.'  
  
He looked down at his handy work and fluffed the surprisingly well sized bow he was able to make out of hempen rope. He spoke again softer and only to her.  
  
'Thank you. For not giving me mercy. I didn't deserve it anyway. Now let's hope your sister hasn't lost all of hers or we're both fucked.'  
  
He led her towards her horse and lifted her up. She smirked down at him and he had the decency to look slightly worried as he walked back to his own beast.  
  
The Hound was right, Sansa didn't need a wolf, but as late King Robert had suggested, Arya was going to bring her a dog.  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, this is fun!

He'd put a cloth sack over her head but made sure it didn't obscure the bow he'd tied to secure the rope pinning her arms to her sides.  
  
Prissy prick.  
  
He'd been fixated on its preservation and perfection since he'd first tied it. They untied her to let her make water and eat, all the while warning her of all the ill that would befall her should she try and run. And without fail he'd always insisted on personally tying her back up again and recreating his masterpiece.  
  
Arya couldn't help worry in the back of her mind that maybe he _did_  know her sister better than she wanted to allow and held the secret fear that Sansa may not even _want_ to untie it and instead try and press, Arya and the bow in whole, into a book of poetry or some nonsense.  
  
And she wouldn't even have given a shit at all about the fuss and the threats and the not being able to itch her nose, if they'd _just_ have kept the bag off her head as they walked through the gates of her home. She'd traded discomfort and her pride for protection and food in her bizzare escorts, but now she was ready to murder them all again for robbing her of her first glimpse of Winterfell in years.  
  
'I'll tell Sansa you beat me when we were on the road if you don't take this bag off my head.'  
  
'She won't believe you.'  
  
'Why wouldn't she, I'm her sister.'  
  
'Aye whos she gonna trust, her sister who buggered off and she hasn't seen in years, or me, who buggered off a few years after that?' That stupid smirk he gave his precious bow came through his voice. Adding hastily, as if he needed to also convince himself of his pull on the acting Queen of Winterfell, 'And after saving her from a mob.'  
  
'I only left cause I had to.'  
  
'Aye, of course you did. And you did it a lot sooner and a lot smarter than I.'  
  
She heard Beric negotiating with a new guard and the ones who'd escorted them in from the gates. She'd not heard the sound of anyone she recognized. But the dead didnt make sound she remembered. The Hound had hidden his ruin behind a scarf from both necessity and from the cold ( _which_  he'd complained about nonstop since he'd picked her up, weak Westerner).  
  
Somehow between Beric and Thoros they weaseled their way into the Great Hall and she felt the ghost of the rooms warmth of enclose them. First thing she'd advise Sansa to do would be to get smarter guards. The second would be freeing up a spot in the kennels.  
  
'Princess Sansa, the Brotherhood of Banners'  
  
''Without' Banners, my lady.' Thoros corrected.  
  
Arya sniggered, The Hound shoved her.  
  
There was silence from what Arya assumed was the front of the room where her sister should be sitting.  
  
Her heart started to race.  
  
_I've killed so many people. Sansa was always so like mother. Mother would have never forgiven me for killing. What if I_ am _a present for The Hound to give. What if_  I _should be the prisoner._  
  
Thoros cleared his throat. Beric took his cue.  
  
'My lady, I understand you need soldiers. But I also understand you need soldiers you can trust. As a token of faith I've brought you a prisoner. An enemy to all goodfolk, but especially to house Stark. My lady, I've brought you the Lannister Hound.'  
  
She felt two hands clench down on to her shoulders.  
  
'WHAT? You cunts! I knew all that 'seeing' shite and 'second chances' tosh was shite.'  
  
The Lannister Hound continued to grunt and growl out threats as he was, she assumed, detained by either Stark guards or fellow Brothers. He curiously hadn't had his hands removed from her and she was tossled about with him.  
  
She heard a sword drawn and a chair scrape and slam.  
  
'Brienne, Please, put your sword away, you've already had the chance to kill him, let's let someone else have a turn.'  
  
This wasn't Sansa.  
  
This wasn't 'Arya! You've  _ruined_ my dress!' This was 'Arya, why have you ruined _another_  of your sisters dresses?'  
  
This was a Great Lady of Winterfell.  
  
Everything next happened very fast as if Sansa had flown in through the window like a bat and knocked over the Great Lady.  
  
She heard a swish of skirts, some quick steps and a loud slap.  
  
'OW! What the hells was that for?'  
  
'Where have you been!'  
  
'What?'  
  
'I don't know!'  
  
There was what sounded like a dainty boot stomping the floor.  
  
'You're not dead, so I either need to replace my sworn shield or tell the maester Winterfell has the first recordable case of a ghost-'  
And much quieter, as she had been _very_ loud up to this point,  
'Or, you're not here for me.'  
  
There was a silence.  
  
Which Arya wish had stayed a silence, as a silence of a 1000 years would be more tolerable than what came out of The Hounds stupid mouth.  
  
'I brought you a present! Look, bloody wrapped it an everything'  
  
Arya felt the weight of the bow shift as he displayed it for his princess. Why did he have use of his hands? Who hadnt tied up his hands? Every guard in Winterfell, whoever this 'Brienne' was and the whole of the Brotherhood was going to be locked up once Arya got free! And so was Sansa for letting The Hound anywhere near herself.  
  
'Everyone out!' Arya had heard that voice before, it was a woman's, but a woman with authority only a sword can warrant.  
  
Arya heard shuffling and some 'not you's, there couldn't have been that many in the Hall to begin with as it was quieted quickly.  
  
There was a sniffle from her sister.  
  
'I do really like the bow. But who have you brought me? This person is too slender to be Tyrion. And Joff is dead. And Ramsey is shit at the bottom of the kennels'  
  
The Hound barked out a laugh at that.  
  
'Aye, I haven't brought you any of those, but the first one is a good idea if I ever have to get you another.'  
  
'Leave Tyrion alone.' She could hear the smile in her sisters quick reply. 'Flowers will be sufficient in future. Or Cersei.'  
   
'In the future.' The Hound agreed.  
  
It was Arya's turn to stomp her foot in impatience.  
  
'Right, may I present, to you, Princess of Winterfell, and Rightful Queen of The Nor-'  
  
'Take this bleeding sack off me _now!_ '

The sack was ripped away, she blinked at the blinding flash of dim candle light.  
  
She heard, saw and felt her sisters strangled 'Arya?'.  
  
Arya never actually got to look at her sister as she was immeadiatly pulled into a crushing embrace by Sansa and promptly started to cry into her sisters beautiful red locks.  
  
When Sansa finally relinquished her iron grip she placed a tender one on her face.  
  
'Your'e so beautiful. Oh Arya, you're so grown up and youre so alive.'  
  
'Im not beautiful, I'm a killer.'  
  
Sansa graced her with a sad, all too knowing smile and started wiping tears from her little sisters eyes.  
  
'We're all killers Arya, all of us.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'Nothing. It's just something someone', she glared at The Hound, 'once said to try to scare me.'  
  
'S'not exactly what I said.'  
  
Sansa placed one damp pretty hand on The Hounds chest, Arya displayed a completely unsubtle 'yack' face.  
  
Sansa looked up at The Hound through her lashes.  
  
'It doesn't matter, I'm realizing I remembered a lot of things differently, or you'd have greeted me in a much more... _courtly_ way...' her thought and her hand trailed off both her captives. And repositioned themselves to fuss with the bow on her present. The Hounds quizzical look turned to that smug smirk of pride and Aryas turned to a wary horror.  
  
'It _really_  is a nice bow.'  
  
Arya realized she had still yet to be untied. And realized she had her sister back.  
  



End file.
